A point of view
by Mara-Amber
Summary: Saitou and Aoshi meet unexpectedly and share a *talk*. Aoshi's POV, a little shonen ai. *COMPLETE*


Standard disclaimers:  
I don't own RuroKen, all rights belong to the creator, Nobuhiro Watsuki,  
and some big name companies.  
I'm just borrowing the characters for some fun, I'll make no money with this.  
  
Author's notes:  
Ok... this had to be done...  
I am not a fan of Sano&Saitou, but I am a 'fan' of Saitou/Okita and   
Saitou/Aoshi.  
  
Since there is a great discrepancy between the pairings I like and  
the pairings I can't stand... the result is this story.   
Saitou/Aoshi is insanely under-represented in my opinion.  
  
As always:  
I am not a native speaker, so mayor grammar and vocabulary mistakes  
might be ahead. hopefully you are not distracted by them. =^^=  
  
And, of course, great thanks to Firuze Khanume and Morgane for  
pre-reading and bearing my mistakes, giving helpful hints and   
suggestions =^^=.  
  
  
  
A POINT OF VIEW  
  
  
  
Satisfied he looked down from the hill he was standing on.  
It was just perfect. The sky was cleared by the last rainfall  
that had taken all the dust in the air with it.   
  
He had a good view over the whole city just as Hannya had had it  
when they still had been together in Kyoto.  
  
But Hannya was dead now, he came back to life only in his memories,  
the perfect spy in life and even in dreams he sneaked into,  
appeared when he last awaited him.  
  
Thoughtfully he looked over the city spread in front of him, the  
people only like little dots in a playground filled with small  
house-models. Like figurines in a play you can place and  
manipulate as you wish. Like in reality.  
  
A smoke cloud was raising at the far other end of Kyoto and his  
eyes narrowed. Once more a careless woman hadn't looked after her  
fireplace. Most likely. Surely the firemen where already running  
through the streets, but as most times they would be too late when  
reaching the place. The house would only be a smoking ruin then.  
It was her own fault.  
  
A rustling by his side startled him and made him jump back alarmed, ready  
to draw his swords.   
  
But all that he saw was a nightingale, hopping  
from twig to twig. Slowly his tensed muscles relaxed, a false alarm.  
Still there were many enemies left and he couldn't allow himself  
the luxury to let his attention drop for just one second.  
  
Though he would have preferred a fight, just for the exercise,  
he watched the little brown bird flying back into the dark forest  
that had hidden it before.  
  
With keen eyes he observed his surroundings closely.  
After all he wanted to spend the next hours here and he didn't  
like interruptions and surprises very much.   
  
Everything only distraction from  
what really mattered: meditation. Reaching the next level of   
consciousness. Of awareness.  
  
And all at this place was as he remembered it:   
the bushes were cut low, so that nothing   
hindered the sight, carefully selected twigs, not to arouse suspicion.  
Who had kept them in this shape? He had been away for such a long time.  
  
This was the only place around Kyoto where one could have a look  
over the whole city without a temple or shrine nearby.   
A secluded, hidden, private place, a place that had only been known  
by his group... and the Shinsen-gumi.  
  
Yes, every time he was here, he was reminded of the Oniwa Banshuu.  
But also of the Shinsen-gumi.  
And both had faded to exist.  
  
Of the Oniwab Banshuu only a ridiculous deplorable rest had remained.  
Not really worth mentioning, considering who they once had been and  
represented... not openly, but still acknowledged even by the Shogun  
who had taken them into his services.  
  
A great honour not everyone had been granted.  
And who was left of his group?  
  
Only Okina was worth mentioning, but he was old, his best days were over  
and weighing on his back.  
  
Misao. Finally grown up, old enough to care for her own.  
Still too inexperienced to be a real Ninja and still too hot-tempered  
to make decisions rationally. As if she ever would.  
  
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The smells of the forest and  
the near city brought back memories.  
  
Once a time long ago he had been here, watching the city, when unexpectedly  
two men had appeared. Two Shinsen-gumi captains, their pack surely nearby.  
  
He felt his jaw tightening. Still, after all this years, he would  
give his life to know who had been the traitor. Who had told them about  
this viewpoint? The viewpoint they had been so eager to hide from anyone?  
There was no sense in being annoyed about long spilled milk...  
  
The positive point was that most people who knew about this place were  
either dead or arrested. Okina wasn't aware of the fact that he had been  
informed about this place, so he wouldn't guess where he was and tell   
it the others, especially not Misao.  
  
It was the perfect place for meditation, for peace, for serenity.  
  
And serenity was what he needed to sort out his thoughts.  
  
He knelt down and closed his eyes.  
How quiet it was. He could feel the city in front of him, disturbingly  
pulsating with life. The forest around him, guarding him from its  
frantic interference.  
  
When had been the last time he was here?  
Had it been with Hannya?  
  
It must have been with Hannya and a smile crept on his face in remembrance.  
He had been fourteen then, short before he had gotten the commander of the   
group and Hannya had trained him, had shown him secret places and secret...  
pleasures. His smile deepened.  
  
The smell of this place would always remind him of Hannya and what  
realms of forbidden pleasure he had shown him. The feeling of the   
place deepened his sensuality and he could almost feel Hannya's  
hands and his back, on his cheeks...  
  
Hannya had been the most careful and loving man he had ever known.  
Not only to him but also to Misao he had been almost like a father,  
something nobody would have guessed who had seen his crippled face.  
A crippled face and a wounded soul, loyal only to him. And had it  
served Hannya well? No, he was dead, as all the others.  
  
The sensation of tender hands left his cheeks and he concentrated to  
clear his mind from disturbing influences... from everything, drifting  
into nothing.  
  
The busy city beneath him, the silent woods around him, the only sounds  
were the creaking of the bamboo bent by the wind behind him.  
  
The wind played with his hair, blowing the bangs out of his face  
and he breathed deeply. What a peaceful place.  
  
But what was that?  
Another smell that didn't belong to this place but that was painfully   
familiar to him, reached his nose, short before he heard the inevitable   
cracking of twigs under the intruder's feet.  
  
The unexpected visitor made no effort to hide his presence, and  
he was fully aware of the fact that the intruder knew it was futile  
to hide anything before his sharpened Ninja-senses.  
  
Even before the man addressed him from behind, he knew who it was.  
  
"Shinomori-san?"  
  
He was one of the few persons he had expected here, but  
surely the latest he had expected to visit him HERE and NOW.  
"Saitou-san?"  
  
The lanky man took the sword out of his belt and used the nearby   
tree-trunk to sit down beside him, looking down at Kyoto.  
"It's been a while since I had been here."  
  
"It is the most secluded and quiet place around Kyoto, perfect  
for meditation."  
That was the main reason why he had decided to go here. But what  
had motivated the officer beside him to do the strenuous up-hill  
climbing. It wasn't the view, for sure.   
  
Maybe long buried memories?  
Had he seen him somewhere on his way and had followed him?  
Most likely the last possibility. Saitou wouldn't make this way  
just for looking over Kyoto.  
  
"Yes. But it hasn't changed a lot from this point of view."  
  
This was nothing Shinomori wanted to be reminded of now.  
He hadn't been here for over ten years and what had awaited him when  
he came back wasn't the Kyoto he had known anymore. Strangers everywhere.  
But he would take his advantage of the situation, as soon as the time  
came.  
"How is your family?"  
  
Saitou shrugged his shoulders negligently  
"Fine, I think. When I visited them the last time, the boy was starting  
to run around and the second child should be born anytime around these  
days."  
  
He couldn't display his disinterest more openly than this. No, he never  
had been interested in his family. His family was only a duty for him,  
like working for the government. Saitou just had done what was expected  
from him as he always did. Family, children, his job.  
  
Shinomori knew that he was right and he knew that there was passion  
inside this man beside his motto, but he better stopped this train  
of thought right now.  
  
"Want one?"  
He had been silent too long, Saitou offered him a pipe, there was one  
between his own lips as well. Not his usual cigarette though.  
  
Gratefully he accepted the pipe  
"Thanks."  
No, he couldn't hope that there was opium inside... it had been forbidden,  
this pleasure that could give him a peaceful mind, letting him forget  
everything and painted the world anew in rose colours.  
  
"How is your group doing?"  
  
"Good. They are all healthy."  
  
"I heard that the weasel girl is going to get married this month."  
  
Had time really passed this fast? Yes, Saitou must be right, she  
should be married soon with this strange guy she had picked up after  
she had finally realised that he wasn't interested in her as a woman.  
  
Had he ever been interested in something beside his work?  
No, his work was all that had mattered to him. He had been ambitious,  
wanting to be his group the best of Japan, no, better: of the world.  
There had been nothing besides training and concentrating on his goal.  
From the corner of his eyes he observed Saitou puffing his pipe.  
"Yes, she is already busy preparing everything."  
  
"And this is the only place you could find peace?"  
  
"Yes."  
What a strange place to look for silence, for meditation.  
He should have known that memories would disturb him, distract him...  
  
"Kyoto hasn't changed very much from the time we both knew it."  
  
He quickly glanced at the lanky man besides him, taking a drag from  
his pipe. The tobacco was delightful... from time to time.  
Saitou kept his eyes fixed on a point far away and Shinomori followed  
his look. It was the burning house. Or better: the burning houses.  
The neighbourhood must have caught fire also, it was going to be one  
of the larger fires that burned down a district from time to time.  
"On the outside or on the inside?"  
  
"On the inside. The outward appearance has changed a lot since   
the Bakumatsu."  
  
Indeed. That was true. When he had came back, he had had problems  
to orientate in the streets at first, landmarks he had used for   
orientation had been gone.  
Shinomori allowed himself to sneer contemptuously  
"The revolutionaries surely got what they deserved. This government  
is weak and suffers from corruption, ambition and greed already."  
  
He felt how Saitou glanced at him  
"You didn't take the offer to work for them."  
  
It wasn't a question for his motives, the man beside him was aware of  
them. As well as Shinomori was aware of Saitou's motivation to work  
for the new government that he had been so eagerly trying to prevent.  
"No. It wasn't compatible to my idea of honour, duty and pride."  
  
The pipe dangled between Saitou's lips as they curved into a smirk  
"Oh, pride and honour. Was it the same what let you turn your pace  
towards Edo?"  
  
With difficulty Shinomori stifled his anger. It was just too typical  
for Saitou to address this matter at this special place.  
"No."  
  
Saitou should know his reasons.  
  
"Why don't you work together with me now? The other's are gone."  
  
Work for him? Carefully he looked at the man beside him, but Saitou  
kept his eyes on the distant fire. It was spreading, like a disease.  
This was not his business... he had once tried to stop a disease, but  
he had failed. Called 'Meiji Restoration'.  
"I am not one for a regular job like this. I like working on my own,  
independent, with my own connections and contacts."  
  
"It is your old connections and contacts I am interested in."  
  
As if this hadn't been obvious.  
"I have no intention to share this precious knowledge with anyone."  
  
"It would be more like investigating in the background from time  
to time. I have my own refund of money with which I could pay you.  
You would report to no one besides me and we could keep this a secret."  
  
Maybe this should be taken into account... it couldn't be wrong to give  
it a try  
"Do you have a special job in back-mind?"  
  
Saitou moved beside him, filling his pipe new and offering also  
some tobacco which he accepted.  
"No, not yet."  
  
It wasn't Saitou's style to beat around the bush, but somehow  
he hadn't addressed what moved them both.  
"So I would finally work under your command."  
  
He didn't miss that brief hurt look in the police-officers eyes.  
"Yes, finally."  
  
Somehow he suddenly felt the urge to explain himself  
"It wasn't that I didn't want to serve you, it was ambition that  
made me leave."  
  
The sudden outburst startled Saitou   
"What?"  
  
"It was you who wanted me in his squad during the Bakumatsu."  
  
Saitou was completely serious, the smirk gone from his face  
"You are right." He bowed his head "From the first time I saw you  
fighting I knew that you were unusually talented. The way you   
handled the swords, the way you moved, the way your spirit emerged...   
all that told me that you were the right boy."  
  
He couldn't help but stare at the older man. That was the most  
personal speech Saitou had ever given him. Although he had always  
known what he felt for him.  
"Edo offered better possibilities and chances to me."  
  
The police-officers voice sounded bitter and disdainful, the  
accusations swinging within hurting him more than he would ever   
admit openly.  
"Playing around with the men in the castle."  
  
Shinomori couldn't help but wonder, was it jealousy he meant to spot?  
It had been common knowledge and he had gained a certain kind of fame  
back then, surely this hadn't gone unnoticed by the man besides him.  
Why did it hurt him so much to hear this from a man he had always  
acknowledged and respected?  
"You know how it is."  
  
Anger swung in Saitou's voice as he suddenly made up his mind and turned   
around to face him, cupping the hatched face with his slender hands.   
  
It made him remember... what he once had felt when looking into this  
eyes, in this place, hidden from the others. The feeling was  
still there, buried deep inside him, buried under his work, his duty...  
and his honour and pride.   
  
He simply couldn't escape this touch  
and eyes, he should have remembered earlier when he still had had  
time to escape. Now it was too late.  
  
Leaning forward he felt Saitou's lips on his own.   
Warm, not as cold as his.  
Lively, giving him tenderly back what he had missed.  
  
The older man must have felt his higher awareness and leaned back,  
letting him go. But he wouldn't let him go again. Once he had been the   
one leaving, that wouldn't happen again, he wasn't bound anymore by  
his group. Only by traditions and conventions.  
  
And the skinny man was a shoulder to lean on, whereas he always  
had to pretend to be strong. For once in a while he could enjoy  
the feeling of letting go... with the older police-officer who  
he once had met in the streets during a bloody revolution.  
  
In another era.  
In a time where emotions burned high... and quick.  
  
He leaned against Saitou, almost seeing the smile on his face,  
lying an arm around him.  
  
Now they had all time they didn't have back then. The tense   
atmosphere that had dominated the scene before was gone,   
and they both settled back, watching the distant fire still  
spreading, now reaching the next district.  
  
Both knowing that they could never share this privacy anywhere  
else besides here: an almost forgotten, remote, secluded hide-out  
from the time of the revolution.  
  
When they were back in the city, they would continue their lives  
on their own, away from the other.  
This wasn't a tolerated relationship anymore.  
  
Relaxed Shinomori closed his eyes.  
  
Why not enjoy the moment?  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------  
Author's notes to homo-sexuality:  
  
My problem is, that I have bunches of information and I know a lot  
about gay relationships in the Edo-period and Taisho-now-period...  
but all is in books and even worse: they are in German.  
Furthermore all these social and history-books (erm, university-material)  
exclude the Meiji...  
  
Luckily Firuze Khanume provided me with some links (thanks Firuze)  
that basically say the same as my books.  
  
As there is (VERY, VERY brief):  
  
Edo-period:  
It is quite common that elder Samurai have younger ones under  
their command and that they had often a sexual relationship  
with them. Japanese were rather relaxed about sexuality (have you  
seen erotic artwork from this period? Highly recommended by me =^^=).  
And sex with boys and girls around 13/14 years were common.  
  
Taisho-until present:  
Gay relationships are a 'no, no' in Japan, though Japanese are still  
very relaxed about sex... I highly recommend to have a look into the  
real country and not reading history-books, anime, manga, guidebooks   
or novels (example? Memories of a Geisha *choke*).   
They always give a warped picture of reality, a one-sided view   
(especially novels) on a country that is so different as it is always   
described.  
  
The best/easiest link:  
http://www.usc.edu/isd/archives/oneigla/onepress/  
search under 'author' for 'Gary P. Leupp'  
  
Started: 27th November 2002  
Finished: 1st December 2002  
First posted: 1st December 2002  
  
Ja ne,  
  
Mara 


End file.
